


What Do Seagulls Look Like?

by fanastikal



Category: A Flock of Seagulls (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Early AFOS, Gen, Late 1980, band dynamics, uneasy alliances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanastikal/pseuds/fanastikal
Summary: This band has a lot of complicated history.Paul is barely 18 here, and they've already been a quartet for over a year.This is my interpretation of what I think could've gone down early on.I've written a lot in my time, but not for a while, so I'm grateful my muse has been reawakened.Not Brit-picked, 'cause I'm a recluse, and it's hella short, but I'm open to corrections.With much respect.
Relationships: Paul Reynolds & Mike Score, Paul Reynolds & Mike Score & Ali Score & Frank Maudsley
Kudos: 2





	What Do Seagulls Look Like?

“Paul?”

“Yeah, Mick?”

“Do you want me to do your hair?”

That caused the young guitarist pause, looking up from his instrument directly at the leader of the band, who was eyeing him with something akin to hope. They were in the rehearsal space above the salon that Mike owned, and they had both arrived early for practice. Frank was actually downstairs, still occupied with his last couple clients, but Ali was who knows where, since the Score brothers didn’t always get along. Oh, he would definitely show, but he definitely would never be early.

“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously, and Mike smiled a little too widely:

“What do _you_ mean, ‘what do I mean’?”

“You know Frank cuts my hair—”

“Yes, yes, I know Frank cuts your hair,” Mike echoed impatiently, bouncing behind his keyboard rig, fiddling, always fiddling with the knobs of the synth setup. His hands were on the knobs, but his pale blue eyes were laser focused on Paul, like his brain didn’t know what his fingers were doing. Mike could be intense. Song-wise and business-wise, he was brilliant with that intensity. The band was making headway, slowly but surely, and it was because of Mike and his relentlessly charming persuasiveness. “I hate those glasses,” he spat, now, pretty much out of nowhere. “They look like those fucking 3D cinema spectacles.”

“Eh,” Paul shrugged without thinking, and then Mike was suddenly very still, and squinting.

“What are you hiding from me?” he demanded, Paul sighing.

“All the lights from the gigs are giving me headaches, and they’re not as fragile as the other ones,” he semi-clarified. The amp was off, but he was playing regardless, now, letting his hands wander the fret. He was trying to distract Mike, and himself as well, focusing on the Kramer, though after thirteen years of playing, he really didn’t need to see it at all. But something made him look up, and the man was mere inches away, and he jumped in shock. Mike laughed as Paul pushed up his glasses, but it wasn’t one of his more mocking guffaws; more that he was proud he caught him off guard: He looked genuinely happy.

“Beautiful, Paul,” he beamed, leaving the eighteen-year-old confused. “Play that last part again?”

“Sure, Mick,” he answered, trusting his hands to echo the sounds as the amp was switched on. He ended up repeating the coda until it was ringing in his head, but the man wasn’t giving away what was clicking in his mind, even as the piece was recorded.

“Do you have a headache, now?” Mike asked, suddenly back on the previous topic not fifteen minutes later.

“No.” His head was down, but a firm hand was suddenly lifting his chin, and he found himself stepping back in annoyance, “Stop it, Mick.” He leaned over enough to switch off the amp, a bit more harshly than necessary, aware he was being scrutinized. Again.

“What’s the tint?”

“Violet.”

“To block out the yellow lights?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they’re certainly different enough to be interesting,” and they both chuckled. Interesting was good; Mike Score liked interesting. And then his hand was in Paul’s hair, grip tightening to a fist as he recoiled, just the Kramer between them. “I wasn’t talking about _cutting_ your hair,” he whispered.

“Stop crowding him, or I’ll throw a drumstick at you,” Ali boomed as the other two members finally entered the room, the leader backing off as Paul eyed him warily. Frank looked genuinely uncomfortable for his young friend:

“Stop mucking about his hair. It’s been blond before. Do we really all have to be blond?”

“I hate the glasses, but they help him, and they’re so oddball as to work.”

“I need a drink,” Paul rasped, to the fridge for a cold one as everybody else set up.

“Why is it always about image, Micky?” Ali quizzed.

“Image sells, Ali,” and Frank huffed in exasperation:

“What more do you want? He’s young, he’s short, he’s cute, he’s got weird glasses, he can sing, and he’s absolutely fucking brilliant on the guitar—”

“Speaking of which,” Mike interrupted enthusiastically, switching on the recording he’d just made as their youngest member tried to disappear into the woodwork, wondering if he, too, should stop arriving early.

**Author's Note:**

> It's time to give this group some love.
> 
> I'm old enough to remember the beginning of MTV, and 'I Ran' was incessant, but I was into Tom Petty. Literally weeks ago, I was watching a YouTube creator, ToddInTheShadows, who does a show called OneHitWonderland, and he goes into the band's history, the hit, the failed follow up, etcetera. Lots of nice details. He mentions that the failed follow up was called 'Space Age Love Song,' plays a bit of it, and says it's one of the best songs of the '80s, and one of his favorite songs of all time. Well, now it's one of mine, as well. Turns out that they weren't as 'synthy' as most other bands of the era, with their young guitarist's signature sound combining into some of the best music I've ever heard in my life.
> 
> I feel bad that personally, I didn't 'get' them when I was fifteen, and also that so many of their song titles are used in fanfiction. Which isn't a bad thing on its own, as people have obviously been greatly inspired by them and their music. But untold bands have had fanfictions written about them, but not these guys. Fanart, maybe, but not fanfiction. For better or worse, I'm here to change that, if only for a brief moment in time.


End file.
